


A Delicious Experiment

by HappyDays03



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Consensual Infidelity, F/M, Inspired by a Movie, M/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 18:07:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyDays03/pseuds/HappyDays03
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically this is inspired by the movie An Indecent Proposal, Nagron style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Delicious Experiment

Oh, how I fucking hated fundraisers. 

Two thousand dollars for a filet mignon, Cristal, and awfully boring people.

I didn't care about the two thousand dollars, or the food and drinks. That wasn't my problem here. No, my problem, my internal conflict was regarding the people who attended these events. They did it to keep up their 'Good Samaritan' façade—but they had ulterior motives. They were newly rich, ungrateful, bastards who only came and donated copious amounts of money so they could blend and mingle.

Those ulterior motives—I would have understood a couple of years ago. I would have been amused by them, but not anymore.

I was tired of Seattle's social rules.

I was tired of turning one way and looking at gold diggers or cheating housewives flirting with me. Flirting with the idea of the status and fortune I possessed. I was tired of men trying to be my friends because of the connections and power I had. I was tired of being alone, of having trust issues concerning who my real friends were.

Tired of being alone, period.

I snorted in sarcasm. I had been very foolish in my younger years. I used to spend quite a lot trying to buy friends, to have people love me and worship me. I'd waste ten thousand dollars on a night at a club and diner just so I could have whomever I wanted on my table drinking from my bottles of Belvedere. At the time, that had been enough, it had made me temporarily happy, but somehow, I got tired of that shit.

I had been immature and didn't really allow anyone to know me for who I was. It was only at night—drunk, and at parties—that my so-called friends looked for me, and I for them.   
Now, every single activity pertaining shallow highs like those were pointless in the real scheme of things.

Upon realizing this, I had turned over a new leaf.

The first incident that made me realize that life was much more than getting drunk and spending money had been when my unique real friend, Spartacus, found the girl of his dreams. Mira was an extremely gorgeous brunette woman, whose father had been my father's partner. She came from a good and respectable family—she had the whole package.  
I had known Mira since we were kids, her father always looking out for me when my parents passed away. He was my godfather, my friend, and he was a good man. That's why, on one of those crazy nights, I introduced Mira to my best friend. They instantly had a connection; it was the perfect match. I couldn't be happier for Spartacus.

But also, I couldn't be couldn't be more discontent with pathetic existence.

I started dating numerous men and woman, all beautiful, sophisticated, but I couldn't find that connection. There wasn't one. On some dates, they would be too presumptuous. On others, he would be too interested, but not in me.

Only in my money.

And so this was why I was alone at this fucking Black and White ball. Alone and politely listening to Chadara Newsway blabbing. Unfortunately, I had to present the check and couldn't or wouldn't send someone on my behalf, because this is what people expected of me—to appear, to be seen, and to socialize.

"Agron, I heard you just got back from Dubai," she said seductively.

"Yes," I replied curtly, but politely.

"Were you alone or did you take someone with you?" she impertinently asked.

I wanted to roll my eyes, to tell her to mind her own business, but I didn't. Wasn't her husband looking for her? 

Fuck, these people were ridiculous.

"No, I went with my friend and his wife," I said courteously.

Dubai had been a trip I hadn't planned on. Spartacus and Mira were attempting to have a baby, so they had booked the flight. When they saw I was working twenty-four hours a day, and that I was supposedly depressed—as they put it—about my life, they invited me to come along. I hadn't wanted to, knowing that I would disrupt their timing, but they insisted. They really were such great, true friends.

But these people… I wanted to leave this place, run and never see their faces again, but it was inevitable; they were either clients, friends of my friends, neighbors, or they were just part of Seattle's inner circle.

"Chadara, if you'll excuse me," I said as she opened her mouth. I needed to remove myself from her presence before she started questioning me further. I set my empty champagne flute on a waitress' tray and grabbed another one, drowning its contents in one gulp.

Walking through the black and white whirlpool, I made my way to my table where Spartacus and Mira were sitting.

"I really want to get out of here," I said as I sat down in my empty chair.

"Go ahead man, I'll give the check if you want to," said Spartacus.

"No, no. Of course I won't leave," I said. "I think I can handle it for one night. Thanks man."

It was then that Mira sat next to me, placing her hand on my shoulder. "I told you to invite Sibenus. He's gorgeous."

"And I also told you how I felt about that," I sighed.

"He's not a stranger. I wouldn't have suggested inviting him if I didn't know him well," she reasoned. I knew she was telling the truth. "Besides, his father owns half of Empire Inc.   
He would not be interested in that."

"I know, I know. Maybe on some other occasion." I was annoyed, everything felt mechanical, mundane. There was no meaning to my life anymore. I just woke up every day, went to work, had dinner alone, and went to sleep. Then the cycle would start all over again the next day.

But as I was thinking about this, something changed.

Since the first instant that my eyes landed on him, walking through the crowd, I knew that I'd found meaning to my pathetic existence.

He was the epitome of natural beauty; the object of my desire.

He had beautiful, ebony hair tied elegantly in a way that accentuated his chiselled face. His eyes were a dark brown color, his nose was straight, and his lips were full and perfect. He was wearing a silky black suit that fit perfectly to his toned body and brought out the smooth tan of his skin.

He was the single most stunning creature I had ever laid eyes upon.

But, the only thing that I didn't like was that a frown was visible on his forehead.

Upon feeling my penetrating stare, his eyes locked with mine. Fuck, he had caught me staring at him. I had wanted to observe his reaction, but too embarrassed by my actions, I averted my gaze elsewhere.

I didn't know who this man was, but I was definitely finding out.

"Mira, who is that boy? The one over there," I asked her, since she knew almost everyone. She looked in the direction I nodded and an annoyed expression appeared on her face. He had been watching me.

"Well, Aggy, don't get your hopes up. He's taken," she said, already knowing that I was interested. Mira knew me so well. And she also uttered the words I was dreading.  
A wave of disappointment washed over me. I pushed that thought aside and insisted, "Who is he?"

"I don't know him personally, but I know he’s Nasir Blessing, married to Castus Blessing." She rolled her eyes. Fuck, he was married. He was someone else's husband. A husband. 

"And he helped organize this event."

"How married is he?" I needed to know even though it was wrong.

Mira shrugged.

"Wait, isn't Castus Blessing's company having financial problems?" asked Spartacus, suddenly interested in our conversation.

"Who knows," I sighed, not caring about his husband's company, but about the fact that he was forbidden territory. The possibility of getting to know him, of touching him, talking to him was evaporated. I wasn't used to feeling this way. I usually had everything I wanted when I wanted it. Why was this impossible? It's not like I could pay for them to get a divorce.

I looked at Nasir again. A tall black man—I assumed to be Castus—took his hand and dragged him towards the exit. They were clearly arguing over something because he seemed to be talking fast, moving his hands frantically as the frown appeared on Nasir's face again. I got the feeling that he was reluctantly going with him.

Suddenly, I was overcome with the need to follow them, to see what was making him so uncomfortable. I took out a cigar from the pocket inside my jacket. As I exited the ballroom, I saw that they were still arguing behind a column.

I lit my cigar, took a deep drag, and exhaled the smoke. I wanted to smoke it after dinner with a much needed glass of Cognac, but it was my excuse for coming outside. What a waste of a perfectly nice cigar; they only made this kind for Fidel and for myself. But I really needed to hear what was going on with this Nasir.

At this stage of my life, not many things interested me. I had everything money could buy, but I was looking for something more. Something difficult to obtain; a challenge, a motivation, something to look forward to. Nasir interested me in so many ways. He intrigued me; his appearance was exquisite. Something was telling me that this was it—Nasir was the answer I had been looking for.

I needed him, but how could I get him?

I stepped near the column so I could hear their conversation. However, their voices were loud, proving my theory right—they were arguing over something.

"Castus, please just give it back," Nasir pleaded desperately.

"Nasir, it's our only shot," he reasoned with him. I wanted to see their faces, but knew that they would notice me eavesdropping on them. I hated being nosy, and above all else I hated gossip, but this was my only chance to figure out how to get nearer. "I owe a lot of money."

"You don't owe shit! Listen to me, Castus. There's nothing they can do to you, to us. We don't need to do this. We—we can escape!" suggested his husband. "We can disappear, get out of the country. Just for God's sake, give it back."

What the fuck?

What was he talking about? What were they planning to do? This was a private conversation, but I didn't know if I liked what I was hearing or if it was something more serious that I should report on.

"It's not that easy, Nasir. These people are dangerous—powerful," Castus said, trying to convince him. "If they want to hurt us, they will. Believe me, this is our only shot. "

"I know it's not easy. But what about the police?" His eyes were teary at this point. He looked frustrated, hurt, but oh so fucking gorgeous. I felt the need to comfort him, take him away from that asshole that was making him angry.

"What about them?" he asked.

"You cannot keep this a secret forever," he sighed. "What will you do when the police catch you?"

Police? Secret?

What secret? And what had he taken that needed to be returned?

What could poss—fuck!

Was he doing what I think he was? Was he keeping the donations? I had to find out, I needed to talk to him. He was going to regret it. This was wrong on so many levels. This was not good; this money was meant for special children.

"I know, Nasir, but it's a risk I'm willing to take. I'm tired of this whole mess." He was exasperated, pulling at his hair, looking at his husband. "You know I regret everything I've done. I dragged you into this, and... and it's killing me."

I couldn't take it anymore. This was too private, too intimate and as much as I wanted to be involved in this with him, to hold his hand, to know exactly what was going on, I couldn't. I didn't fucking know him, for God's sake!

Putting out the cigar, I returned inside and went directly to the rest room. I splashed my face with cold water.

Castus Blessing had better listen to me.


End file.
